


Beginning of the End

by HavocRoyale



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Coming Out, Denial of Feelings, Gang Violence, Gay Donnie, Gay Troy Bradshaw, Gratuitous Donnie Content, I'm pioneering gay!donnie and also donnie & lin mlm/wlw solidarity, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drugging, Lesbian Lin, M/M, Misunderstandings, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, and also Any Donnie Ship that isn't him and Lin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 23:02:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HavocRoyale/pseuds/HavocRoyale
Summary: Donnie reflects on everything that’s happened in the past six years that have left him where he is now, packing his bags in an empty apartment.





	Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I wrote nearly 10k words of content that I'm not sure will appeal to anyone but me but oh well! I liked writing it a lot! It was just supposed to be a quick 2k character study lol

“That everything, Donnie?”

His dad’s large hand claps Donnie on the shoulder as they stand in the doorway to the apartment he’s lived in for the better part of six years. It looks odd, all bare and empty. It’s good, a great sign of the progress he’s made in the past months, just... _ weird _ .

It’s not everything though. He’s got a few boxes still waiting to be filed and taped up in his bedroom.

“N-No. I’ve got a few more boxes to finish packing up. I’ll meet you outside.”

“You sure you don’t want my help?”

_ He’s never been more sure of anything. _

“It’s just some small stuff in my room, I’ve got it.”

His dad laughs, it’s deep and hearty, “Okay, me and your brothers are gonna get some lunch at Freckle Bitch’s. You want us to bring you back some chicken bazooms?”

Donnie knows he probably won’t have much of an appetite when his family gets back but he still nods. When his dad walks down the hall, he closes the door and lets out a sigh. Now for the hard part. When he gets to his room, it’s mostly already picked clean and empty already. Save for the few boxes on his bed. He can already feel the tears starting to build up, exactly the reason he wanted to do this alone.

* * *

It’s late and Donnie thinks for a second that maybe he should check his phone because he’s  _ sure _ his parents have probably texted him asking where he is a hundred times by now. But instead he stays right where he is. Lying on his back of his best friend’s bed, Joseph lying beside him, passing a joint in silence. It’s painstakingly normal after everything else that’s happened that week.

They’re in a  _ gang  _ now, they’re  _ leading _ a gang now. Well, Joseph is. Donnie’s just kind of  _ there _ . Like he always has been. 

Suddenly Joseph flies to his feet like he just remembered he left the stove on, “Oh, shit! I forgot, I’ve got somethin’ for you, Donnie.”

Donnie doesn’t say anything, instead just sitting up on his elbows and watching as the taller man rush to his closet and throw the door open. He proceeds to dig through a pile of clothes on the floor for a few minutes, arising with an old worn jacket in his hands.

Donnie recognizes it immediately, all the old patches and leatherwork on it. It was Joseph’s letterman jacket, from  _ high school _ . 

His friend crossed back to the bed and tossed it into his lap, “Try it on! I stopped fitting in it a few weeks ago, guess I’ve finally started packing on some muscle after all the work!

He laughs and Donnie feels like he can feel the laugh in his own chest. He hands his friend the joint as he stands so he can slip the old jacket on, “I don’t think it’s gonna fit all that well, dude.”

Joseph now is easily three times his size, all broad shoulders and muscle where Donnie is narrow and slim. Joseph in high school wasn’t as ripped, but he was still significantly bigger than Donnie.

“Stop your complainin’ and just put it on, man.” Joseph starts laughing only to fall into a coughing fit after taking a drag from the joint.

Sure enough, the jacket is more like a small blanket on him. His hands barely even poke out the ends of the sleeves. Joseph takes a moment to give Donnie a once-over before he starts to laugh again, “You really weren’t kidding, huh?”

“Fuck off, I look like one of your high school girlfriends grew a mustache,” He laughed along with his friend, “This is  _ way _ to big on me.”

“I dunno, it’s kinda cute.”

“God, shut up, dude,” Joseph really knew what kind of jokes to make to throw Donnie off, he doesn’t think Joseph actually  _ knows _ that but he certainly acts like it.

Joseph sat back down on the bed, taking one last drag of the joint before putting it out on his nightstand and throwing it away, “Nah, man, I’m bein’ for real. It’s a good look on you.”

He pushed a hand through his blond hair before sliding his glasses up, he took one of Donnie’s hands in his free hand. Donnie’s about 70% sure he’s dreaming at this point. With Joseph’s grey eyes looking up at him like that, pupils blown way out from the weed. It  _ feels _ like there’s something more going on, tension hanging low in the air between them as his friend pulls him closer.

“You know, we’re on our way to owning this town, Donnie.”

“Uh, yeah? I guess?” He’s not entirely sure where Joseph is taking this, “No one’s gonna be able to stop us, no one’s gonna be able to tell us what to do.”

Joseph’s brought a hand to hold Donnie’s face and he  _ knows _ at this point he should pull away or say something, but he can’t find it in himself to do so. Without another word, Joseph’s lips are on his and by now Donnie is completely confident that whatever is happening isn’t real.

Joseph is by fair the straightest guy he knows. And he’s not gay either. He’s liked girls before...well, he can’t think of any girls he’s liked before, but he’s sure there’s gotta be some somewhere…

Despite his dilemma, Donnie still kisses back and Joseph slips a hand around his waist under the jacket. Pulling him close, Donnie has to steady himself with a hand on his friend’s shoulder, he’s suddenly dizzy.

And then his phone is buzzing on the nightstand.

Joseph lets him pull away enough to grab the phone. Unsurprisingly, it’s his mom calling. Part of him is relieved for the distraction. He thinks he might go crazy trying to justify every second of the events Joseph put into motion. He answers the phone and is immediately chastised, “Donald Wong, where have you been that you couldn’t answer your phone for the past two hours?!”

“S-Sorry, Mama. I’m at Joseph’s,” Speaking of his best friend, said man is pulling the phone to himself, “Hello, Mrs. Wong!”

Donnie could hear his mom sigh on the other end, “Hello, Joey. Care to tell me  _ what _ you two boys have been up to that you couldn’t have texted where you were hours ago?”

“Uh—“

Joseph saves him, “Working on my car for tomorrow’s race, ma’am. What can I say? We’re busy boys,” He tugs at Donnie’s waistband with a smirk.

It takes all of his composure to reply, “Yeah, he really  _ fucked _ it up practicing earlier.”

“Donnie! Language!”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

His mom paused for a moment, “Well, Joey, make sure Donnie’s eating right while he’s over there.”

“You go it, ma’am,” Joseph gave a mock salute as if Donnie’s mom could see him.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Donnie! Bye Joey!”

“Love you too, Mama.”

“Bye, Mrs. Wong!” The second Donnie closed his phone, Joseph snatched it from his hand and tossed it onto the floor somewhere, “Dude!”

“It’s fine, Donnie. Now, we were kind of in the middle of something—“

_ Right. They were interrupted. Not fixing Joseph’s car, doing something else entirely. _

_ _ Joseph wastes no time sliding the letterman off of Donnie’s shoulders and recapturing him in a kiss. At this point Donnie’s done arguing with himself whether this is fake or not. It’s happening regardless and there’s no harm in following along. 

What he learns is that Joseph’s  _ warmth _ , his personality, his eyes, his smile, it’s contagious. Donnie feels the same warmth spread where Joseph’s hands touch under his shirt or where he trails open-mouthed kisses along Donnie’s throat. Donnie feels  _ warm _ and his thoughts are getting fuzzy and every movement is starting to blur together.

And then it’s over. He’s lying on his back in his best friend’s bed, his best friend lying beside him asleep. Exactly where they started only now they’re clothesless. Or mostly at least, Donnie’s still got his shirt on and Joseph’s got his boxers on. It takes a few minutes of silence for it to click in his mind.

_ I just fucked my best friend. _

This doesn’t  _ have _ to mean he’s gay right? Okay, so he slept with Joseph, there’s exceptions to every rule. It’s a one off thing, he’s not gay and he’s not going to do that again.

He needs to go home. He can read the time on the alarm clock: 1:24 AM. Carefully and quietly, Donnie gets up from the bed and starts to collect his clothes, pulling them on as he goes. He pauses at the letterman jacket in the floor, it’s not like it fits him and he already has his own at his house...he grabs it anyways. He’s halfway out of the room, phone in hand, when he hears Joseph roll over and grumble behind him.

“Where you goin’, Donnie?” His words slur together, he’s still half asleep.

“Home. Something...something came up, I don’t know if I-I’ll be at the race tomorrow,” He was never a good liar.

Joseph doesn’t say anything and for a second Donnie thinks he may have fallen asleep again, “Okay. Drive safe, I love you, man.”

“I...uh,” How do you respond to that? They were never the kind of friends who just casually dropped “I love yous,” he didn’t  _ mean _ that did he? His anxiety is starting to dig in a pit in his stomach, he just doesn’t say anything as he closes the door and walks out.

He tells himself he’ll talk to Joseph about it tomorrow. But he doesn’t. So then it’s “I’ll talk to him Sunday” and he can’t look his friend in the eyes Sunday.  _ He tries to pretend like he doesn’t see how hurt Joseph is _ . Then he says “next week,” then he’s suddenly “way too busy at the garage.”

And next thing he knows, he’s hardly seen Joseph in three months and the next time he does, his best friend’s shaved his head and has an arm around some girl Donnie swears he’s never seen a day in his life. He laughs, deep and hearty like always and introduces the girl. Her name’s Kate or Katie or Kaitlin or  _ something _ like that. Donnie can’t really find it in himself to care. He makes an honest effort to reconnect with Joseph after that. Joseph on the other hand seems to be ten times as busy as ever and when he isn’t preoccupied with the Rollerz, he’s busy with his new girlfriend.

Donnie’s managed to get on friendly terms again and they’re talking regularly again but it’s not the same.  _ He still needs to talk to him. _

_ _ Then  _ Lin _ shows up five more months later. He tries to tell himself he likes her as more than a friend, she’s an amazing friend, but anytime they go on a “date” or they’re alone in his garage, something feels  _ off _ and he can’t stop thinking about Joseph and the nameless girl hanging off of him.

Lin knows. She has to know because one second they’re arguing about what’s tackier, underglow or wheels ten times too big for the car they’re attached to, and the next Lin’s grilling him about his relationship with Joseph and asking if he’s gay.

_ Maybe he is gay, but he only recently came to terms that it’s a real possibility. _

After a beat of silence, Lin passes him a joint and speaks up, “You know I’m gay.”

He sputters and almost chokes on the joint. Lin looks as unphased as ever, “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud...I’m a fuckin’ lesbian, man. Fuck guys.”

“I-I mean—,” Donnie figures that if Lin has never said it before now, then now is as good as ever to say it, “I think I’m gay…”

Lin doesn’t say anything, just quirks an eyebrow as she takes the joint from him. So he continues, “...I slept with Joseph.”

_ That  _ pulls a reaction from Lin, she starts to cackle, “Oh my god, are you serious? You fucked the big man in charge?”

_ He’s still not used to how blunt she could be. _

“I-I-I...yeah? Like...shit, like eight months ago? When the Rollerz officially were being classified as a gang by the cops, before he went and fuckin’ shaved all his hair off.”

“And got a girlfriend apparently. Is she a beard or—“

“What? No! No, Joseph is…”  _ Is he straight? Donnie really doesn’t know anymore,  _ “Joey’s straight.”

“Joey, huh?”

He throws a pillow at her as she laughs.

It was nice. Having someone he could talk to about it all. Until Sharp at least. Joseph’s uncle tied Lin and her friend up, threw them in the back of her car, and shot them. And Donnie didn’t stop him.

_ And neither did Joseph. _

He was angry and he stayed with one of his brothers in his dorm out of town and by the time he came back home a month later, Joseph was just as dead as Lin was.

_ Donnie wondered for a long time if he could have saved both of them if he had just stood up to Sharp that night. _

* * *

Donnie pulls the old letterman out from the back of his closet. Originally he had left it for last because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep it or not. He traced a hand over the patches on the back, a large shark and Joseph’s name in bold over it.

_ It’s not like it’ll fit him now. _

Despite that, he pulls it on easily. It’s just as big and baggy on him as it was the night Joseph gave it to him. It was warm, probably because it was something like eighty degrees outside, but he let himself consider that it’s because Joseph was warm.

He doesn’t want to think about how much he fucked up that year.

He keeps the jacket on as he goes about finding everything else to pack up.

* * *

Two years after Joseph and Lin’s untimely demises and one and a half years after completely throwing himself into his work, a large man absolutely covered in tattoos walks into his shop, “You Donnie?”

The man has mullet that’s been shaved on the sides and the beginnings of a tattoo on the right side of his face that matches the ones trailing up his arm.

“Uh...y-yeah? What do you need done?”

The man grins, it’s big and suave, Donnie can practically  _ feel _ the charisma off this guy, “Some bodywork, cops really gave my truck a run for its money and my usual mechanic is— unavailable.”

Donnie doesn’t like his hesitation. He knows one of his competitors ate lead a few days ago at the hand of one of those Brotherhood thugs. Brotherhood thugs who dress a lot like this guy. Donnie has the right to refuse service to anyone...but he doesn’t think this guy’ll let him off the hook like that.

“Well, I can take a look at it and then I can give a rough estimate for the price,” He tells himself he does it because he needs the money, not out of fear.

He follows the man out to the front of the shop where a fucking  _ huge _ truck sits. If there was any doubt before, the unmistakable paint job tells Donnie that this man is in the Brotherhood. Said man is standing with his arms crossed across his chest and looking awfully proud of himself.

“She’s a beauty, huh?”

_ Not really _ , Donnie likes sleeker performance cars, this hunk of junk just looks like it belongs to someone compensating for another hunk of junk, “Y-Yeah. So, um, you said you just wanted some bodywork, right?”

“Yeah, a cop car rammed into the side over here,” He gestures to a large dent in the back half of the bed, “We were coming down off the highway and he came out from the tunnel and slammed right into us.”

Donnie just observed silently, examining the damage and checking a few other parts for anything else that he could replace or fix up. He wasn’t expecting the man to try and strike up a conversation with him.

“So I heard you used to roll with the Rollerz?”

He doesn’t like where this is going, “Uh, yeah. Performance is kind of what I excel at, racing and the likes. Bodywork isn’t something I’m especially good with.”

“You’re a mechanic though. Doesn’t mean you  _ can’t  _ do it though, right?”

“Well, of course I can do it. I’m just better. I can also do division and multiplication, does that mean I can’t do addition and subtraction?”

He didn’t intend to come off so snappy, he just hates it when people act like what he does isn’t enough or good enough or whatever. The client doesn’t seem to care, he’s laughing from behind him, his laugh reminds Donnie of Joseph’s only deeper.

“You’ve got a point. How’d you like working with a gang?”

“It was...alright. I had a lot of friends in the Rollerz, knew most of them from high school or the neighborhood. I went to a lot of races too, it didn’t really change a lot at first.”

“And then?” This man was really nosy.

“And  _ then _ the Saints showed up,” Donnie walked back into his shop with the man close on his heels, “Lotta my friends died after that.”

Looking up at the man from his desk, he could see a glint in his eyes. Donnie knows he’s not getting out of this unscathed.

“Ever heard of the Brotherhood?”

“Yeah, you’re all over the news around here, raiding shops and crap.”

“Okay, well— I’ll make you an offer. You work on my boys trucks, fix ‘em up and everything. Then we’ll  _ protect _ you,” The man called them  _ his _ boys, meaning he’s not  _ just  _ Brotherhood, he’s the leader.

“I-I...I don’t— I’m not really—“

“Look, you think about it. Come find me and the boys down at the docks,” He winks as he walks off, “Name’s Maero by the way!”

Donnie can  _ hear _ the large truck pulling off.  _ Did he even want the work done? _

_ _ He doesn’t think about the prospect for very long admittedly. He  _ needs _ the protection at this point. Between the Samedi ransacking any place they can find money or items worth money for their drugs, and the Ronin having a personal stake at Donnie and his family (something about a longtime feud between his uncle and the top dog of the Akujis), he  _ really _ needs the protection. 

Not to mention that Maero kind of reminds him of Joseph in a weird way...and he thinks that  _ maybe _ in an equally weird way, this is his second chance he never got with his friend.

He should have known how ridiculous that concept was the second he thought it. But Donnie was never really known to be  _ smart _ . He shows up at the docks a few days later and there’s Brotherhood scrambling all over the place, no one seems to pay him any mind. After some time, he finds his way into the main building. Maero’s sitting in a chair talking to a redhead standing beside him, there’s another guy hunkered over one of Maero’s legs with something in his hand. The buzzing noise and pieces of art stuck up all over the walls gives Donnie the feeling Maero’s probably getting more tattoo work done.

_ As if he didn’t already have way too many. _

After a few seconds, Maero notices Donnie standing in the doorway. He smiles wide again and lets out a chuckle, “Donnie! Thought about my proposition any?”

The redhead is staring him down, she didn’t look all too friendly really. Donnie swallowed thickly, “Ah...yeah. I could really use the protection really...um...I’ve already had some issues with Samedi trying to take parts from my shop to scrap and the Ronin...uh, they just don’t like me really, I guess…”

“Of course they do,” Donnie’s not sure what the redhead meant by that, but he doubts it’s anything good.

Maero rests a hand on the girl’s shoulder and they argue in whispers for a moment. The man tattooing Maero’s leg wipes the excess or something off of Maero and stands up, setting the small machine down on a rolling table beside the chair, “Alright, that’s everything for today, man.”

“Thanks, Matt,” Maero stops conferring with the redhead and examines his leg, “It looks fuckin’ awesome, dude.”

Donnie doesn’t really see what the big deal is, the tattoo looks just like the pattern on his arm or his face. He’s not about to voice that opinion though. The tattoo artist almost bumps into him as he walks over to a sink nearby, “Sorry, not used to an audience. Well, not when tattooing at least.”

He laughs at his own joke as he washes his hands. Donnie swears he’s seen the guy before, short blond mohawk,  _ lots  _ of piercings in his face and ears, full tattoo sleeves on both arms. His shirt had a logo on it, but Donnie couldn’t decipher what it said. It wasn’t until the guy picked up a blue guitar that it clicked, “You’re the guy from that local band! Dog Food or whatever.”

Maero began to laugh, the guitarist wasn’t laughing but he smiled so maybe Donnie  _ didn’t _ just make a fool of himself, “It’s the  _ Feed Dogs _ actually.”

“I don’t know, Matt, you guys do sound like dog food. And I say this as your best friend.”

“Shut up, man. Feed Dogs fuckin’ rock!” The blond, Matt apparently, resumed tuning his guitar, “And ‘sides, you and Jessica  _ met _ at one of my concerts so don’t even try and give me shit about my music.”

For a moment, Donnie thinks they’ve forgotten about him standing there. Until Maero gets right back on track like he was never derailed at all, “Alright, Donnie. I’ve got some boys in the back, they’ve fucked their trucks up pretty badly. You fix them up, and then we’ll talk about how we’re gonna protect your shop. Matty, why don’t you help him find Blake and Anita.”

“Yeah, whatever, you just wanna get me outta here so you and Jessica can fuck.”

“And you’re still in here.”

Donnie’s quickly escorted out with a firm hand on his shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’re leaving! Use protection, asshole!”

Well,  _ that _ was mortifying. Donnie’s sure his entire face is red after that uncomfortable exchange, Matt doesn’t take his hand off of his shoulder as they walk down the hall. His guitar hanging on his shoulder as he digs in his pocket for something. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and pulls one out, offering the pack to Donnie with a grin, “You smoke?”

“No.”

Matt pockets the cigarettes and pulls another unlabeled pack from another pocket, “What about weed?”

“Uh,” Donnie was trying to avoid drugs really, Joseph always said it made it harder to focus when they were working, he can’t really tell if that was true or not, “Yeah, sure.”

_ No harm done if he smokes one joint. _

Matt pockets his cig in a pocket of his jacket and replaces it with the joint. He ducks in and pulls Donnie into an empty side room before lighting the joint. Donnie points out how odd it is when Matt hands him the joint, “Are we not supposed to smoke here or something?”

“Matt lets out a weak laugh, “Nah, it’s just like...lighting a joint in the open is like when you’d pull gum out in class and suddenly you have like eight people up your ass for your stuff.”

“Oh, okay.”

“So Maero said you used to roll with the Rollerz, huh?”

_ Not this again, _ “Yeah. What about it?”

“Just curious. They always seemed kind of...pretentious assholes. Didn’t think Maero was gonna have a ton of luck recruiting you, guess you don’t really seem like the type to have a stick up your ass though.”

_ Well, he wasn’t really wrong. The Westside Rollerz were just a buncha kids from the suburbs who liked to drive their cars fast. It’s a sudden reminder that they were never meant to be a real gang. Joseph just wanted to race with his friends and mod their cars to hell and back and cut up, then he got his uncle involved. _

“Yo, dude? You alright, man?” Matt pats his arm, Donnie realizes he must’ve zoned out, “Yeah, just...Being in the Rollerz kind of sucked. My best friend died when the Saints took over.”

“Oh, shit, man. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

_ Donnie really doesn’t want to think about it anymore,  _ “It’s fine, just— Maero said he wants me to take a look at some trucks. We should get to, uh... _ that. _ ”

Working with the Brotherhood turns out to mostly just be a lot of bodywork. Fixing dents, replacing missing doors, touching up the paint jobs. But Maero was true to his word, Donnie’s Garage always had about ten or so Brotherhood hanging around just waiting for trouble.

Maero turns out to be exactly the opposite of everything Donnie expected. The man is nothing like Joseph Price. He’s all cold stares and calculated moves and harsh tones where Joseph was warm looks and spontaneous plans and soft words. Donnie worked on thin ice, he made any mistake, regardless of size, Maero made sure he  _ knew _ and he  _ paid _ for it. Donnie’s stuttering nervous mess of a personality quickly became a danger to his work and probably his life.

More often than not, he worked in silence, only speaking when spoken to just to avoid unnecessary problems. He was incredibly thankful for Matt when he had a rough day. Matt, for whatever reason, hung out with Donnie a lot. He’d take him to arcades or music events when Maero was too busy, and he’d always show up unannounced at Donnie’s new apartment with a stack of movies and Freckle Bitch’s on Fridays.

It almost felt  _ normal. _

It was  _ normal _ for Matt to show up at his door on the anniversary of Lin’s death that year. Donnie didn’t really think too hard about who it might be at his door, just mustered up all the energy he had in him to cross the room and open the door. Matt looked completely shocked to see Donnie in this state of unruliness, “Dude, you look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“Sorry, it’s just...what happened to you, man? You alright?” It’s  _ normal _ for Matt to be concerned, there’s a calloused hand holding his arm and Donnie thinks for a second it’s  _ warm. _

“Yeah, just...not really actually,” He moves so Matt can walk into the apartment, “Three years ago my best friend’s uncle killed like...this girl I was friends with in front of me...and I just let him.”

It took a bit to get out, but once he did, he felt a little better. He doesn’t know if he’s ever actually talked about what happened with the Rollerz.

“Fuck, dude. This happen while you were in the Rollerz?” Matt takes a seat on the couch like he lives here, hell with how often he’s over he practically  _ does _ live her, “Were you, ah,  _ close _ with her?”

Donnie doesn’t really think about it a lot, he resumes his place laying on the couch, now with his legs in Matt’s lap, “Fuck no, dude. I’m— I’m gay. Gay as hell as Lin would say.”

“ _ Oh. _ ”

“But yeah, uh, Lin was a Saint. She like infiltrated the Rollerz and Mr.Sharp just...took her out like it was nothin’. He wanted me to help him push her and her friend into the river. I just left...guess he pushed them in on his own eventually. I heard Lin drowned like a month later, and her friend got out and killed Mr.Sharp,” He laughs, “Asshole deserved it really. I hope it fuckin’ hurt.”

“Jeez, Donnie. This why you don’t talk about your time in the Rollerz?” Matt looked genuinely concerned across the couch.

“Pfft, it gets worse, trust me. So get this, my best friend since diapers was Joseph Price, the man who created the Rollerz, and Mr.Sharp was his shitty uncle…” A beat of silence, “I think Lin’s friend killed him too. I was told he died in an explosion with a goliath after a chase and some gunfire or whatever on the highway. I missed his funeral.”

“I’m sorry, dude...Is this just what you do all day when it comes to the day?” Matt’s looking around the room, taking in the disarray, Donnie groans, “Sorta, yeah. I used to just work and focus on my work, but with Maero and the Brotherhood breathing down my neck, I figured this would be better.”

Matt smirked at him, “Well...since I’m here—”

“C’mon, Matt, I’m really not in the mood.”

“If you don’t want to watch the new Fast and the Furious movie with me, then I guess I’ll just have to go back to my place and watch it on my own.”

“Wait— No, I wanna see it. Do you have the first three too?” Donnie sat up to look at his friend who mocked offense, “What do you take me for? An idiot? Yes, I have the other three movies, Donnie. Have a little faith.”

Donnie really doesn’t know  _ when _ Matt’s arm found a place around his shoulders, only noticing after the movie is over and Matt is fast asleep beside him. Matt is warm beside him and Donnie has a sense of dread wash over him.

_ He could lose Matt just as easily as he lost Joseph or Lin. _

For a while, Donnie tries ignoring that glaring fact. As hard as it is, he thinks he does a good job, even if he’s been annoying Matt with always hanging around. He overhears a conversation between Jessica and Matt, she’s definitely noticed Donnie always at Matt’s side. If it bothers Matt though, he doesn’t let it show.

And in a few months they’re watching more shitty movies on Donnie’s couch and Matt’s arm is around him again. Donnie was in the middle of  _ trying _ to explain why the cars in Fast and the Furious were bullshit when Matt just up and kisses him. It’s short and fleeting and Donnie isn’t even confident that it really happened at first.

_ Then he does it again _ .

And Donnie kisses  _ back. _ And suddenly he’s on his back and Matt’s above him and he can feel Matt’s warm hands under his shirt and he feels like he’s reliving that night with Joseph before everything went to shit. His heart is thrumming in his ears, his thoughts won’t slow down long enough for him to think, and he can’t fucking breathe. He musters up all the strength he’s got and shoves Matt off of him.

Matt flies back, Donnie doesn’t think he has that kind of strength to have done that completely on his own. But he doesn’t have time to think about it because now all he can think about is how Joseph is dead and they never talked and if he goes through with this, he doesn’t know if he can bounce back if Matt dies.

“Donnie?” Matt’s got a hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay, man? What happened?”

_ Does he really want to tell Matt what happened? “I started thinking of my ex— not ex, best friend, dying when you started feeling me up” doesn’t exactly sound like something he should say...ever. _

“I-I just...I haven’t like...slept with anyone since— in a while…”

“Oh. Well, we don’t have to like...do anything, man,” Donnie looks to Matt to see a lopsided and awkward smile, he was  _ trying _ at least.

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for a while. Donnie cooling off and catching his breath and Matt simply sitting unmoving, spread out on the other end of the couch. The fuzz of the TV static the only noise filling the room.

Donnie looked over to Matt to find the punk looking at him as well, “So...uh—“

Donnie cut him off, “We can make-out if you want.”

“Fuck yeah, dude,” Matt’s big stupid grin was contagious, even when he’s pulling Donnie over to him.

They  _ try _ to keep the relationship to themselves, only they both kind of suck at hiding things. It was really only a matter of time before someone caught on when they’d both miraculously disappear and reappear later together. Ultimately it was a Brotherhood lieutenant who found them hotboxing Donnie’s car and making out that told Maero.

Matt, was inexplicably confident that Maero wasn’t going to be upset. Donnie did  _ not _ share Matt’s confidence. Especially when Maero pulled him to the side after Matt left the room and told him quite bluntly that if Donnie slipped up at all with Matt, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut him down.

Despite Maero’s threat, everything starts to flow nicely after that. No one bothers the Brotherhood, Matt’s band gets more gigs, and Donnie has gone surprisingly long without someone shaking him down for money or parts or information.

Then Lin’s friend wakes up from his coma after five years.

Donnie really should have known shit was going too well, too good to be true or to last. Maero doesn’t seem worried and Donnie doesn’t know if he’s mistaken or not. But he just tries to focus on the good.

He doesn’t say anything when he sees Maero with the Saints in tow walk into the Brotherhood’s base of operations. He doesn’t say anything about any plans to The Boss even as the put a gun to his head and force him to rig some Brotherhood trucks with explosives.

_ Of course the Saints went to him first. He’s the weak link.  _

If it wasn’t for Jessica’s stupid shitty car, Donnie thinks that not even Matt could have stopped Maero from snapping his neck after that stunt.

And then The Boss shows up at his garage to rough him up looking for their friend, Carlos.

Matt gets really protective after that. They were already talking about moving in together, it was always hypothetical and an “eventually,” but now Matt’s a lot more invested in it. He’s always got an arm around Donnie if it’s not just them. Donnie tries not to think about how Matt’s clearly just as scared about losing him as he is.

Then  _ Jessica _ dies.

Donnie wasn’t there to see it, but after hearing about how she died, he wants to vomit. Crushed in the truck of her own car, by her boyfriend in a monster truck.

He wonders if the Saints’ leader was this brutal and unforgiving with Joseph.

_ He hopes not. _

Donnie tells Matt that he wants to leave again like he did after Lin. And Matt tells him he doesn’t need to, because nothing is going to happen to him because he’s there for him. It admittedly does little to subside his anxiety.

When the Saints raid the docks, Donnie doesn’t think any of them are getting out alive. Matt’s pacing across the room while gunshots echo all around them. The fighting stops and for a second he and Matt look to each other, maybe it’s over with. Until Maero and The Boss fall through the ceiling. Donnie runs out to get a truck, and he  _ thought _ Matt was with him. When he drove back by, Maero was running out of the building without Matt and The Boss tailing behind.

Eventually they’ve driven far enough that Donnie stops and gets out of the truck. Maero takes the wheel and wordlessly Donnie climbs into the passenger’s side.

“Where’s Matt?”

“What?”

“Where’s Matt? He was with you when I left, why wasn’t he with you when I came back?” Donnie doesn’t want to think about where he probably is. Matt isn’t dead. He  _ can’t _ be dead.

Maero is silent for a moment, “He was a good friend.”

_ Was. _

“You left him to die?!”

“He sacrificed himself so we could escape.”

“You let him get himself fucking killed by that sociopath!” He’s never felt so angry, he feels like he’s going to burst, “What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought you were his friend?!”

“I  _ was  _ his friend! He chose to get himself killed! At least he wasn’t a coward like you, Donnie! He knew what he was doing!”

“If it’s such a big deal to sacrifice yourself for someone then why didn’t  _ you _ fucking die in there?!”  _ Matt’s dead _ , he’s not going to come back, “Maybe you’re the fucking coward! You let all your gang die for you! You let Matt die for you! You let your fucking girlfriend die because you offered the Saints a shitty deal and—“

Maero brakes the truck so hard it knocks the air out of Donnie’s lungs. He can practically  _ feel  _ the rage radiating off of Maero, “You leave Jessica out of this! What the  _ fuck _ do you know about the Saints?! You think because you ran with the Rollerz, you’re smarter than me?! The Saints are a bunch of piece of shit, washed up, failures! The only reason they’ve gotten this far is because  _ I _ let them.”

Donnie doesn’t respond as he unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs out of the truck, he sees Maero reach for the glovebox before they hear cop sirens down the road, “I hope the Saints fucking kill you and I hope they make it fucking hurt.”

“You fucking—“ The sirens are getting louder, Maero checks the mirror, “I’m going to  _ kill _ the Saints, and then I’m coming  _ back _ for you, Donnie.”

Maero peels off, getting Donnie covered in mud as the rain starts pouring on him. The cop car down the road pulls up beside him, he thinks he’s seen the cop before. Maybe on TV or something? He’s got a mustache and his hair was falling out of his hat, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he looked suspiciously at Donnie, “Look...I’m not supposed to give hitchhikers rides. So I have to arrest you, Donnie, but we’ll get you cleaned up at the department, alright?”

He gets out of the car and pulls out some handcuffs all the while Donnie’s still trying to figure out how this cop knows him. He reads the nameplate: T. BRADSHAW.  _ Bradshaw _ , this is the fucking sheriff. He used to be a Saint, of course he knows him.

After they’re at the department, Donnie’s given the chance to wash the mud off of his face and then Troy sits him down in his office, “Your parents still live in town?”

“I’m 24, you don’t need to call my parents, dude.”

Troy sighs, “I’m sorry, would you rather I let you go home free where Maero and his buddies can kill you? Probably not. Now answer the damn question, Donnie.”

“My dad does.”

“What about your ma? She was a lot more pleasant to talk to, your da kind of scares me. He’s Mr. Wong’s brother, ain’t he?”

This is really weird. Donnie can’t tell if Troy’s just being nice and trying to make smalltalk or what, “My mom died last year. Stroke. And yeah.”

“Oh,” Troy looked genuinely shocked, “My bad, sorry, Donnie. She was a great woman, she made all my visits to the emergency room a lot more tolerable.”

“Yeah.”

Troy grabbed a file out of one of the cabinets and started flipping through it across from Donnie, “So listen, I’m sure they’ll hate me for tellin’ you but, uh…the Saints...they’re the ones who asked me to come get you.”

“ _ What? _ ”

“I don’t know, man. I try to stay out of it as much as I can, the less I know the better. They wanted me to get to Maero I’m sure, but I don’t think I could have taken that asshole even if I caught up. But they didn’t want you dead if it could be helped. I dunno, I think The Boss has taken a liking to you. I mean you’re like the only person he hasn’t tried to kill across two whole gangs.”

“Well, maybe he should try harder then.”

Troy looked upset at that comment, “The Saints just saved your life, Donnie. You can hate them all you want, but you could be dead in the ground if they wanted.”

“Would you kill me if they asked you to?”

“What?  _ No! _ I’m the chief of police, I wouldn’t just fucking kill you in my office because a couple of gangbangers asked me to, Donnie.”

Before Donnie could respond, Troy picked up the phone on his desk and called what Donnie could only assume was his dad.

_ His life is a fucking mess now. _

_ _ After a brief call with Donnie’s dad, Troy hangs up and looks to Donnie as he lights a cigarette. He offers the pack to Donnie, “You smoke?”

“No.”

Troy rolls his eyes, “If I knew you were gonna be such a sourpuss, I would’ve made you sit here caked in mud. You know, everything I’ve heard about you until now, you sounded like a nice guy. A fucking idiot, but a nice guy.”

Donnie honest to god had a migraine at this point, he just wanted to go home and  _ sleep _ , “Yeah, well, that was before your little buddies killed my boyfriend.”

“Is that really what this is about? Joseph died because he was an arrogant asshole five years ago, Donnie.”

_ Joseph? _

“This isn’t about  _ Joey _ . I was never dating him, why do you think—”

“Because Lin said as much!” Donnie wasn’t sure what part he hated more, the frightening angry clear as day on Troy’s face or the fact that Lin  _ told _ someone about Joseph.

“Why the hell did she tell you anything?”

“That’s hardly your business, Donnie.”

“Oh, but me and Joseph was  _ your _ business?” Troy was sitting with his head in his hands now, he let out a groan, “Look, Donnie, just...I’m not...if you’re worried I’m gonna out you or something, you don’t have to worry about that with me, okay?”

Donnie didn’t respond and Troy just let out another groan before continuing, “If it wasn’t Joseph, then who was it? The Boss doesn’t exactly have a clearcut number of victims.”

“Feed Dogs guitarist, Matt? Maero’s best friend?”

“What?” The cop gave Donnie a puzzled look, “When was this? I thought he just fucked his hand up on some fireworks?”

“I don’t know, like an hour ago?” Donnie gives a halfassed shrug.

“Why do the Saints insist on making my job the absolute worst? Alright so, Matt’s gonna be amongst the countless dead at the docks tonight, I guess.”

Donnie hated how casually Troy was referring to Matt’s death.

“As much as I love hearing about my dead boyfriend, is my dad showing up to get me anytime soon?”

Troy looked like a deer stuck in headlights, “Ah... _ no. _ He said he was busy…”

“Awesome, so can  _ I _ go home then?” These handcuffs were really starting to irritate him, he’s never been in handcuffs at all, let alone for so long, “It’s not like you have a real reason to keep me here.”

“Don’t give me that, you’re a known associate of both the Westside Rollerz, the Brotherhood, and the Third Street Saints. I can keep you here as long as I like. And  _ no _ .”

“ _ Why not?! _ ”

“Because with the Brotherhood still out there, you’re in danger.”

“Why do you care? You’re a cop! Good riddance, another gangbanger dead, right?!”

Troy had clearly had enough. He rose to his feet so fast his chair rocked behind him as it scraped across the floor, and he slammed his hands down on the desk, “Because you’re not just another gangbanger, Donnie! All you do is fucking fix cars! You find the biggest motherfucker out there and you glue yourself to his side, god knows why, and you fix cars. You’ve never killed someone, you’ve never gone drug trafficking, hell! For all I know you’ve never even stolen a stick of gum from a gas station! You don’t  _ have _ to keep doing this, you can still get  _ out _ .”

The chief of police sighed and dropped back down and slouched into his chair, pulling his hat off and rubbing his face with the back of his hand, “Look, I’ll let you go home but I’m giving you a guard, alright? Until Maero is taken out at the least.”

He doesn’t need a babysitter and he tells Troy as much. The man just sighs again, “I’m not changing my mind, Donnie. I can just as easily keep you locked up, all I need from you is agree to testify against whatever Brotherhood we catch before the Saints do. It’s not a big deal, your safety and we get some extra help locking these boys up for good.”

“Fine.”

What Donnie wasn’t expecting, was for Troy to  _ personally  _ guard him. His first clue probably should have been when Troy waited until he got off of work and offered to drive him home, but Donnie was a little distracted. Today has been hell. 

When they pull in, Donnie notices Matt’s bike is still parked at the front. Of course it’s still parked, who’s going to move it? Matt’s fucking  _ dead _ . More thoughts and things to ignore, he supposes. Walking into the apartment with Troy behind him instead of Matt was all sorts of weird. Troy was a lot broader for one, he was a lot quieter too. He didn’t say much before they left or during the drive over, and he’s just as silent as he waits for Donnie to unlock his door. Walking into the apartment feels like the worst five minutes of his life yet.

There’s half packed boxes, taped up boxes, and miscellaneous crap littering the floors and tables. The only clear seating is the couch. He and Matt had about half of his things packed, if they just had another week maybe…

Donnie feels his knees go weak and he thinks he’s just going to collapse until Troy comes up behind him. The bigger man hooks his arms under Donnie’s and holds him up, “What the hell, man? You’re still conscious right?”

He feels dizzy and for a second he’s not really sure, his chest tightens and he knows if Troy wasn’t holding him, he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own. Without a reply, Troy hoists Donnie up a little higher and drags him over to the couch.

“Christ, man,” Troy pushes a box on the coffee table to the side and sits, he looks to Donnie and grins, “You look like shit, Donnie.”

“Thanks.”

“You got a guest room in here or somethin’?”

“Couch folds out. I’ll get up in a bit, just...walking in here sucked,” He doesn’t think moving would have saved Matt’s life any, “Me and Matt were in the middle of packing.”

“Moving in or out?”

“Out.”

“Yikes. I’m sorry, man.”

“Yeah.’

Living with Troy was surprisingly not the worst. The worst was waking up and having to stare down at Matt’s guitar in the corner of his room or his toothbrush or the open boxes of his movies day in and day out. Thankfully, Troy proved to be just as quiet normally as he was the first night. He didn’t get mad or yell at Donnie when he took too long to get ready, he didn’t drill him with questions about the Brotherhood or Matt or whatever was bothering him.

Troy was observant though.

After the first week, Donnie woke up one day to find that Troy had finished closing up a bunch of the scattered boxes around the apartment. And another he’d moved Matt’s guitar so it wasn’t the first thing Donnie saw when he opened his eyes.

Two weeks later, Maero and a lot of the remaining Brotherhood were found slaughtered in the Ultor Dome.

Three weeks later, Troy was still sleeping on Donnie’s couch. 

They were eating breakfast one morning, dry eggs and partially burned toast credit from Troy, and the cop broke the usual silence with some somber news, “So...no one’s had any luck contacting any of Matt’s family about a funeral…”

Donnie already wants to throw up his meal.

“I didn’t know him too well, I know a bunch of his fans have had like a memorial thing when it was announced he was found dead at the docks…I figured you were the next in line to talk to about a funeral since we can’t find his family…”

“He was kicked out when he was 15. I don’t think his family cares.”

Troy grumbled to himself as he took a bite of eggs, “Well, do you wanna do the funeral or not, Donnie? If it’s too much work—”

“I’ll do it, I’m just saying. If his family  _ does _ show up, they don’t deserve to have a say in this.”

“ _ Right. _ ”

The funeral itself is admittedly small. It’s mostly just Donnie, Troy, the remaining Feed Dogs members, and a few other musicians and bargoers Matt had befriended. When they get to the cemetery however, there’s a small crowd of fans. Donnie doesn’t really know how to feel about that. Matt was always incredibly grateful and engaging with the fans his band had, but this was a lot more than that. 

Slowly but surely everyone clears out, leaving Donnie and Troy alone at Matt’s grave/ Troy clears his throat and pats Donnie on the shoulder awkwardly, “Uh, I’ll be in the car. You...take your time, Donnie.”

He sits in front of the grave, pulling his knees up to his chest. Part of him still feels like maybe  _ this _ night he’ll go to bed and wake up and Matt’ll be there and the past three weeks will have all been some stupid dream. The other part of him knows damn well that’s not going to happen. It never happened with Joseph, why would it happen now?

_ He’s not that lucky. _

Days past and he starts working in the garage again, mostly just doing renovations after the hell it went through at the hands of the Saints. Troy finally starts sleeping at his own place and not living like Donnie’s shadow everywhere. He starts looking for an apartment to rent that  _ isn’t _ in Stilwater because maybe it’s not him maybe it’s just this crappy town. Or the Saints. Both are pretty much exclusively found on this island.

On bad days, he finds himself in bars and drinking. He goes with the intention of having a one-night stand, but he never so much as starts talking to someone, let alone going home to sleep with them.

After a few months and a regular schedule consisting of bar hopping on Saturday, Donnie’s being led out of the bar by some guy who he honestly didn’t get a good look at. All he knows is that last drink tasted like someone poured salt in it and everything’s a little fuzzy now. They’re stopped not even five feet from the bar by someone. Donnie for a moment thinks it’s Troy, the man’s got the same shitty mustache and the same slur in his words.

He discovers soon that it  _ is _ Troy. Because the man punches the guy Donnie was with and then pulls out a badge from his back pocket and flashes it. He’s still yelling at the guy about something for a few moments before he’s the one holding Donnie up, “God, you fucking smell like a brewery, Donnie.”

Donnie tries to say something smart in response, but he thinks it just comes out all jumbled and mumbled.

He wakes up the next day with a horrible hangover, a fuzzy memory, and the unsightly view of a mustache. There’s a weight over his waist that he quickly determines is definitely Troy’s arm and he’s quick to climb out of bed and promptly trip over his own feet.

_ He didn’t fuckin’ sleep with the chief of police last night did he? Wait _ —  _ Does Troy even swing that way? _

Troy lets out a groan and rolls over onto his back, scratching at his jaw stubble, “D’ya gotta be so fucking loud? It’s gotta be like...way too early for this, man.”

_ How is he so casual about this? _

“I don’t know, I-I mean last night’s kind of fuzzy, I think I’m justified seeing as I’m pretty sure we slept together last night!”

“Yeah,” Troy chuckles, “You weren’t this noisy then, either.”

Donnie nearly chokes on his own spit, he knows his face must be red as a tomato, “What?!”

Troy’s laughing a lot harder now, the laughter quickly turns into a coughing fit for a moment, “I’m just fuckin’ with you, Donnie. Some asshole tried drugging you, you got lucky I decided to show up when I did.”

_ The police commisioner is a fucking asshole. _

_ _ Donnie decides  _ not _ to even address Troy’s poor sense of humor, “Why were you even at a gay club?”

“Well,” Troy pauses to yawn and stretch out, “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. I like men? I’m gay, I guess? I don’t really think it’s that big of a deal, I mean love who you love and all that crap. But the media would have a fucking party if they found out, yknow?”

_ Oh. That answer is a lot simpler than Donnie expected. _

“Uh...sure…”

Troy sat up, “Fuck. I’m gonna have a goddamn media circus up my ass now. I used my badge to get you away from that dickhead last night.”

“Right...thanks, by the way,” Donnie can’t say he ever expected Troy Bradshaw to ever be the guy to help him like that...or how he has at all since Matt died, “You’re kind of my best friend now…”

“Wonderful, my closest friend is an idiot mechanic with a penchant for getting into gang wars.”

“Hey! I’m not—”

Troy laughed as he passed Donnie on his way to the bathroom, “Another joke, Donnie.”

“You really make some shit jokes, Troy.”

* * *

With the last of the boxes packed up, Donnie grabs the case for Matt’s guitar and throws it over his shoulder on his way out of the door. His dad and brothers are waiting outside with lunch and...Troy is also there? He seems pretty invested in a conversation with Donnie’s dad.

He approaches the two of them with caution, unsure what to expect. Troy’s dressed casually in some old jeans and a plaid shirt, his hair was clearly recently cut, he notices Donnie first and shoots him a smile. Donnie’s dad turns to him with a grin of his own, “Donnie! I didn’t know you were friends with Chief Bradshaw!”

“Uh, yeah. It just never really came up, I guess?” His dad is staring him down for a moment, “Is that Joey’s old jacket?”

“Oh! Yeah, I-I found it in the back of my closet...It didn’t fit in any of the boxes left so I just...put it on,”  _ Smooth, Donnie. _

He sees Troy chuckle in his peripheral, his dad just nods, “Right well, I’m sure Troy’s here for a reason, I’ll help your brothers finish loading the last of the boxes.”

And with that, his dad takes the box from his hands and leaves him alone with Troy...who, in a funny turn of events, he hasn’t talked to in the past four months. For reasons not unlike why he had stopped talking to Joseph. It was awkward.

“Listen, Donnie, you don’t gotta like...apologize of some shit. I don’t really care about whatever excuse you have, just...take care of yourself alright? I know Stilwater’s rough, but I think after growing up here, leaving’s probably rougher.”

“Hang on, no, I should have told you I was moving... _ at least _ . I thought you were going to try and stop me, honestly. And I know that like...obviously moving off of an island is kind of a big stick in the spokes on the wheel here, but if you’re still open to getting dinner sometimes..,” Donnie trails off, he kind of already screwed this over big time when he stood Troy up and then never told him he was moving.

Troy just eyes him for a moment, squinting suspiciously before a smile breaks out across his face, “Alright, fine. Not like I have anything better planned. You stand me up this time though, I’ll have to tell the Saints.”

“Wait— Please don’t, I’m not gonna stand you up again—”

Troy’s hoarse laughter cut him off, “Joke, Donnie. You really gotta learn to tell the difference, dude.”

“I’ll learn the difference when you learn better jokes.”

“Whatever, man. I’ve gotta go, I actually have an official unofficial meetin’ with the Saints in like an hour. Let me know whenever you get to your new place.”

Donnie’s dad makes him jump when he claps a hand back down on his shoulder from behind him, “You all ready to go, Donnie?”

“Uh..Y-Yeah, just—” There’s a knot of anxiety still in his chest, “There’s just like, one more thing I wanted to tell you um...I’m gay.”

His dad just gave him a look and turned around to look at his brothers getting into the moving van, “Is that it?”

“Wh— Yeah? What do you mean, is that it?”

“Oh, I dunno. I just thought maybe you had something new to tell me.”

Donnie fumbled after almost dropping the guitar case off of his arm, “What?!”

“Donnie, you aren’t really the best at hiding things. The next thing you’ll tell me is that you were in that coked up sideshow the Brotherhood! Or that you were involved in that gang Joseph and his uncle made!”

“You knew about that?!”

His dad just laughs as he crosses to get behind the wheel of the car, “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

**Author's Note:**

> 2 things: 1. alternative title to this could be "Donnie is Gay and Struggling; The Essay" 2. I understand that the Feed Dogs are supposed to be a "heavy metal" band, but for a number of reasons I'm deciding to ignore that and make them a punk band
> 
> **tumblr:** [stilwaterskeeter](https://stilwaterskeeter.tumblr.com)


End file.
